Monday reader's view: Seasons

By the Midland Daily News

Updated
7:00 am EDT, Monday, September 28, 2015

To the editor:

For me, fall begins, not on a calendar day, but when my neighbor’s present for me arrives. It is a gift he gives me unknowingly, yet in the giving he retains the gift and it is not diminished in the giving. It is a bellwether tree, a harbinger of fall. Each morning in September I look across the street at his tree. And when the morning sun touches the top of that tree, illuminating the first blush of red, I know that fall has arrived.

Fall is the best of all seasons. It is the fruition of the summer rains; the beginning of the harvest season; the time of year that the squirrels rush about my back yard, searching for nuts and seeds to be hoarded for the winter to come.

I have another visitor who assures me that fall has come. My flowering crab, another tree that shows me fall color early, bears small crab apples — not fit for my consumption. My visitor is a small chipmunk who makes his home beneath my front stoop. In summer he is shy; the opening of the door startles him. In fall, however, he boldly brings a yellow apple to my front stoop and sits there to eat. I am very careful not to disturb his meal, because he makes me happy. He reaps the fruit of my tree and repays me with his company.

In fall, nature gives me another present, or rather many presents. The sumac, the maples, the oak, and the poplars display their reds, magentas and yellow glory for me to feast on. And I feast, saving that beauty to last me through the winter in my memory.

Nature gives the beauty of her bounty. There is no better sight at this time than the ripened grain and corn in the fields, the beauty of the display at my local farm market with its baskets of red apples, piles of orange pumpkins, squash, onions and potatoes, and to satisfy the inner man, the aroma of the breads and especially the cinnamon rolls from the Amish women which tempt my palate and make me buy one large cinnamon roll to satisfy my appetite.

And now, the days dawn bleak and dreary. The first faint flakes of sleet or snow come slashing down. I sit by my fire, the first good fire after the warm and sunny days of early October. It is a time of rest and relaxation. In my memories I see the glories of the fall season — the colors, the odors, the sound of rustling leaves. Then I remember the words of the old botany professor in David Grayson’s book “Adventures in Friendship.” He said that as a youth he firmly believed in God. He went to the university and tried to rationalize the science efforts to cast doubt on God. Now, he said that after visiting fields, forests, and gardens, he has discovered that on this earth there is nothing but God.